BBRae one-shot (1.7K) for the squares “camping trip” and “literally stuck together.” Posted fully on AO3 with lovely commissioned art from @batwynn. Go check ‘em out — they’re amazing and still taking commissions as far as I know! It was a pleasure 😊💖
Jump City would be fine without them. That was what the Titans told themselves before heading off into the wilderness. California had its fair share of woodland nooks, but the spacious terrain was few and far between city skyscrapers.
THREE BINGOS ✔️!!! Thus concludes Warm & Fluffy Bingo with one last ficlet. Enjoy!
BBRae ficlet (~600W) featuring tea parties and jealousy.
One might assume that unless you have children of your own, you would never understand the meaning of parenting. That assumption is simply just not true. Raven and Garfield never forged a fiery spawn of their own—yet they understand every single meaning, definition and implication of the word "parenting."
"How?" you may ask. Well, because Raven and Garfield often babysat for their fellow superhero counterparts.
Often.
Their frequent flyers were typically Nightwing and Starfire's little boy—Jacob—and Wally's set of rambunctious twins—Jai and Iris. Though they have been known to take on the occasional big-wig's kid like Connor Kent or Bart Allen, the loving couple was most knowledgeable when it came to their past teammates' children.
For example, Garfield knew that the fastest way to put the twins to sleep was to play tag with them as a cheetah until they tuckered themselves out. Similarly, Raven knew that the easiest way to get Jake to stop climbing on countertops was to distract him with her swirling black aura.
The magical couple were also sometimes the only witnesses to huge milestones in the children's lives. It had been Garfield who came across Jake's ability to fly—thanks, Starfire. Iris almost gave Raven a heart attack one night—though luckily, the little girl only phased through the wall leading to the kitchen, and not the balcony.
So. By every meaning of the word, give or take twenty hours of labor and nine months of panicking, Raven and Garfield knew what parenting consisted of.
It was because they knew how to nurture the children's whims of the week that Raven hosted a tea party in Iris's honor. It included the works—stuffed animal attendees, tiny fake sandwiches and tinier plastic dinnerware to eat said treats on. The only thing "real" was the cold brew tea Raven made for the occasion and Garfield's irritation at having to sit in a pint-sized seat after having finally grown into the adult version of one.
That—and the fact that the twins flanked both sides of his wife, leaving no room for the green-skinned changeling in the process—really put a damper on Uncle G's mood.
Raven raised a brow at him over her glass of iced tea and mumbled, "Are you jealous of six-year-olds?"
Garfield bit back, "No," but the way he crouched in his seat and slurped the tea bitterly spoke volumes.
She snorted into her cup. With a glance over the twins' heads, Raven whispered, "I'll give you a real treat when we're alone."
Jai grumbled about wanting a better treat for being so good at his sister's dumb tea party, so Raven smiled softly—a twinkle in her eye shimmering like Garfield often saw during these babysitting circumstances—and stood from the table. She gently intertwined her fingers with those of the children's and assured them they would get a sweet treat in the kitchen.
Over the victorious din of the twins' cheers, Raven turned her head to Garfield and confidently grinned. She rumbled, "You'll get yours tonight."
Pea peaks flushed atop Garfield's cheeks as Raven led the kids to the kitchen, surely going to scoop out the spare ice cream they kept around for their nieces and nephews.
If Raven ever wanted children, she'd just have to say the word. Garfield adored how the kids looked perched on her hips. Not to mention sneaking sexy moments while keeping a straight, innocent face all the while.
Sterek fic (1.1K) written for the squares “sharing ice cream” and “tears of joy” for my Warm and Fluffy Bingo. The getting-together fic is cross-posted on AO3. Written for @disneyprincessbuffyannesummers for the @teenwolfholidayfest 2022 event. Happy Holidays dude, hope I did it justice!
"Derek!" Laura hollered, barrelling into her brother's room, "Best thing ever—I just saw Stiles crying outside by the curb!"
A judgemental eyebrow raised. "How is that a good thing?"
"Duh dingle-dumb," she huffed, "it means he's single now."
"How do you figure that?"
"Must I spell everything out for you, meat-for-brains?" Laura's urgency grew as she crept closer, "Stiles doesn't cry unless 1) it's about his dad, 2) he learned some freaky fact about nature or 3) because Theo fucked up and made him cry."
She did speak the truth. Mr. Stilinski was fine, though. If he weren't, Stiles would've told Derek by now. Same went for his annoying habit of texting Derek gross facts about platypuses' anatomy.
Laura jolted him back to the present with a well-aimed punch to his bicep, "Now get your sorry ass up and make your move!"
Derek regretted telling Laura about his crush on the neighbor boy. Three years of keeping it to himself only to be pissed away in one fell swoop thanks to his "helpful" big sister.
She was right about one thing—Stiles actually was crying on the curb. And with both halves of the "best boyfriend" keychains he and Theo had, no less. Maybe they really did break up.
About damn time. Dude was no good from the get-go.
Derek approached the curb outside their adjacent houses with trepidation. What was he to say? 'Sorry you got dumped—go out with me instead?' Or better yet, 'He was a piece of shit that never deserved you, let's get some ice cream?'
Fat chance.
Watery doe eyes fell to the Hale boy before he could think of an excuse for skulking behind Stiles.
"Such a creeper."
At least something good came from Derek's stalker tendencies. For the briefest of moments, a smile flickered across his crush's face.
Stiles sniffled. Wiped his nose on his hoodie sleeve. "Come to gloat?" he asked, scooting over.
Derek hesitantly took the offered seat. Once settled against the concrete slab, he inquired, "Would it help?"
"No," Stiles snorted, "no 'I told you so's could help right now."
"Then I won't say it."
A sadder smile found Stiles. "How kind..."
The pair sat in silence. A siren echoed in the distance and Derek wondered if Mr. Stilinski was on patrol tonight. Stiles shouldn't have to be alone after his first breakup—his first real breakup, since the one week romance with Lydia in the third grade didn't count.
Derek was going to spew the classic, 'Do you want to talk about it?' line but Stiles beat him to the punch.
"I don't wanna talk right now."
The Hale boy also wanted to fall back on their usual banter and quip, 'You always wanna talk,' but didn't. Couldn't once he saw Stiles's knuckles turn white with how hard he gripped those tiny magnetic keychains.
Instead, what came out was, "Mom made lasagna."
Stiles's demeanor shifted. His semi-dry eyes landed on Derek. When the Hale boy gave a meek shrug and nod to his house, Stilinski started wailing again.
Before Derek could panic much, Stiles flung his arms around the boy in a tight hug—eyes damp once more with fresh tears.
"A-Are you okay?"
The Stilinski boy nodded roughly, watery words spilling between hiccups, "I just- really- love you guys!"
At least these tears weren't shed over that prick again, right?
Derek tried to explain away why his chest felt so fluttery-light in that moment.
Lasagna wouldn't be enough.
That was the excuse Derek whipped up in order to justify buying Stiles ice cream.
The pair meandered back home with sugary cones in hand. Stiles devoured his chocolate-dipped waffle cone in three minutes flat. Meanwhile, Derek gave up on eating more diabetes in a cup and passed Stiles the dish of Rocky Road halfway to their destination.
It wasn't until Stiles had scraped the sides clean of melted dairy that they discussed the boy's love life.
"I should've known it wouldn't work out."
"Don't be so hard on yourself."
Stiles pointed his plastic spoon at Derek, "You told me he and that junior kid looked pretty cozy."
Derek's hands burrowed further into his pockets. He shrugged, cheeks heating. "They did."
And they did. But it was also Derek's way of justifying his hatred for Theo. Derek swore that if he ever caught wind of the douchebag cheating, he'd knock his shiny teeth in.
Stiles laughed outright when Derek mentioned that he still would in a heartbeat. Between chuckles, Stiles claimed, "My hero."
The Stilinski house drew nearer with every stolen smile.
Derek wasn't ready to let go. He should say something, right? Something meaningful and smooth and not really pick-up-y but definitely sweet with sincerity and a dash of dependability.
Derek blinked.
Stiles was climbing the porch steps.
This was it.
"Stiles—"
"—I know, Derek."
"—I want you to know, that..." The senior stopped. Finally looked up into caramel candy eyes instead of worrying how they would look at him after he spoke.
Derek blinked again. "You know?"
The smile Stiles hid behind was soft. "I mean," he backpedaled, "I didn't know know, but. I had a hunch."
If they were talking about what Derek thought they were... "Laura?"
"No," Stiles shook his head. His cheeks pinkened as he suggested, "You should shut the window when you..." The teen's hand shook up and down until Derek could parse the obscene gesture's meaning.
Derek felt his face burn a cherry tomato blush of doom. He stuttered out an apology until Stiles cut him off.
"Nono, perfectly natural," the senior waved. "Plus I uh..." Stiles scratched his neck, "I've done some stuff," then his cheek, "thinkin' of you..."
The Hale boy blinked, his own flush forgotten in the face of his crush's honesty.
The paper cup in Stiles's hands crinkled under his grip. "Aren't you gonna say anythin'?"
Derek shook his head. Stiles dropped his own to his chest.
Derek ascended the porch steps. Stiles snapped upright.
Derek held his love's face between sweaty palms. Stiles closed his eyes and waited for a kiss.
The kiss never came.
Stiles squinted one eye open. Derek rubbed his thumb across an angular cheekbone.
"Can I kiss you?"
Stiles huffed, "Shut up."
Derek got kissed.
Laura took a million photos from her bedroom upstairs. It had the perfect angle to fully capture Stiles's hands on Derek's asscheeks.
BBRae ficlet for the squares “pet names” and “road trip” on my Warm and Fluffy Bingo sheet. Cross-posted to AO3, rated T and ~450 words. Enjoy.
Being sent on out-of–city missions wasn't always a bad thing. Sometimes, Kori wouldn't get lost, and they could complete their task within a reasonable amount of time. Victor had been known on occasion to let her pick the music in the T-car on the drive back. When riding with Dick, the leader shared reflective and peaceful silence with her to and from their destination.
But as usual, Garfield was another story.
The changeling insisted on having the windows rolled down, screwing up Raven's hair and her hearing. He set the radio volume too loud, sang outdated songs and gawked as he drove. It was a miracle that they hadn't gotten in an accident during the ten years since Garfield acquired his license.
But then, they did.
And in the weirdest way possible, too. Weirder than seeing a deer in Steel City in the first place. Weirder than Garfield not swerving to spare the woodland creature its life. Weirder than coming out of the experience unscathed, save for an awkward conversation.
To alert her gawking teammate of the animal wandering into the highway, Raven touched Garfield's forearm and stated, "Deer."
He turned from the window to stare at her profile and answered, "Yes?"
Near seconds later, the buck slammed into the grill. A shrill howl of pain reached the heroes moments before its death.
The pair sat in silence. They blinked out the windshield. A small crack from when the deer's rack hit the glass was Raven's focal point. For Garfield, it was a distant stop light.
The scenic route he insisted on taking earlier that morning had fewer cars—as argued over—but significantly more accident reports under its belt.
Eventually, someone had to break the silence. Garfield turned slowly towards his companion, a nervous chuckle bubbling from his chest. "You meant deer."
Wide, orchid eyes—still overflowing with shock—fell on him. "Why," Raven enunciated slowly, "would I have meant dear?"
He frowned, "Because you give me pet names all the time."
Raven scoffed. Rolling her eyes she unbuckled, getting out of the car as his voice followed her.
"Granted, it would've been sweeter than the typical ‘idiot' or ‘buffoon,' but I thought..."
"Please stop talking." Raven cringed at his crestfallen expression. She hated when Garfield's ears drooped. As an afterthought, she tacked on, "Dear."
His toothy grin was far too bright for nine o'clock at night.
Raven worked on laying the buck to rest in the woods surrounding the road. Garfield tried not to focus on the lifeless corpse encased in her powers, but instead on the mysterious sorceress herself.
Though her hood hid a lot, it couldn't hide her flushed cheeks from him.
Sterek fic (1.3K) written for the squares “hunted down obscure present” and “carefully unwrapping presents.” Posted fully on AO3 featuring an established relationship and doting, domestic boyfriends.
It took three weeks, two cashed-in favors from neighboring alphas and making one nosy uncle distract his boyfriend the day it arrived for Derek to acquire the best gift for Stiles's twenty-second birthday. If only the spark could unwrap it faster.
First work towards my first bingo, A Song for You, My Love covers the squares "affectionate teasing" and "wrote you a song." The short ~600 word fic features domestic Sterek navigating their marriage together via sarcastic serenading. Enjoy.
"I wrote you a song."
Derek blinked. He stopped unlacing his work boots. Straightening, he looked up at Stiles from his seat on the mudroom bench. "A song," he repeated dumbly.
"Well, song lyrics," Stiles amended, "since I haven't quite nailed a melody yet." He stared down at his husband—still dressed in his uniform as Stiles himself was getting ready to leave for work. "Anyways," he cleared his throat, "it goes like this.
"Derek, you are my one true love.
You're the reason I get out of bed,
Taking up my every thought,
Filling all the space inside my head."
The deputy smiles softly at the sweet gesture. There was a hint of something edging into his husband's scent, but Derek couldn't place it yet. Instead, he let the voice of his beloved wash over him as he continued to untie his shoelaces.
"I'm lucky to have a guy like you,
And I can never stay mad for long.
BUT! I'm afraid I have to confess,
This isn't quite a love song."
Derek's head swiveled up, boots already slipped off and hands at his undershirt's top button. He tilted his skull, weighed down by confusion as he started to place the conflicting emotions that welled inside Stiles.
"You are beautiful, and beyond tough."
Stiles frowned.
"However, despite the fact that you're pretty,
I'm pissed because when I woke up,
The dishes in the sink were still dirty."
Derek cringed, overwhelmed by the sharp, garlic tang of his spouse's righteous fury. Despite the verse that followed, Derek knew Stiles was fuming internally.
"Now, I'm not really mad, per se,
It's just that they're still in the sink,
And I asked you to do them yesterday.
And, quite frankly, they're starting to stink."
Derek stood, apology on the tip of his tongue as he wrapped his arms around Stiles's waist. His husband hushed him with a finger to his lips, garlic odor fading to be replaced by tender vanilla as bronze irises fell to peach lips.
"I know you can help me fix this little hiccup,
Since our love knows no bounds."
Derek felt his own citrusy attraction flare up at his husband's—albeit sarcastic—romantic gesture. When Stiles raised his gaze to Derek's, the assistant sheriff licked his lips and continued his song.
"So when I get back, the dishes will be clean."
A wicked grin.
"Otherwise, you're going to the dog pound."
Derek frowned, affection for the human long gone as he rolled his eyes skyward and questioned his sanity.
Stiles's grin widened. He removed his finger, pecked his partner on the lips and rumbled, "I'll see you at breakfast, Deputy Hale."
He leered. "The sink will be empty by then, Tay Tay."
The assistant sheriff cackled. "It better be, wolfman." Stiles smooched his husband's lips once more. He slapped Derek's ass before claiming, "Otherwise no sexy times for a month—and you'll owe me a back rub for spending an hour hunched over the coffee table writing that stupid song."
Derek snorted. He dropped his hands from Stiles's waist and ushered him into his jacket. "I'll give you one anyway."
"Because I deserve it," Stiles grinned widely.
"Because you're never going to win a Grammy," Derek teased. Stiles scowled. Derek laughed, patting his husband's shoulder. "I love you."
"Uh huh."
Derek kissed him one last time before sending his love on his way. Derek had dishes to do, after all.
